


don't stop here

by andwhatyousaid



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:19:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andwhatyousaid/pseuds/andwhatyousaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam wants some morning after cuddles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't stop here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fallfreely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallfreely/gifts).



> This is all completely and utterly [fallfreely](http://archiveofourown.org/users/fallfreely/pseuds/fallfreely)'s fault, who showed me [this video](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r9mNEtgOOcI), and then told me to write the human version of it. There's very little, if anything, that I won't do for her. ♥ Giant thank you to her rather remarkably lovely self for giving this a read through, as well. Entirely lower-case, and also entirely fiction!

by the time harry wakes up in liam’s flat on the weekend, liam’s nosing along the side of his throat, his neck, his skin warmed and soft, dragging until he reaches the start of harry’s ear. he opens his eyes to liam’s mouth catching around his lobe and his teeth sinking in briefly. harry tries to huff a laugh but his body’s still heavy and slow, weighted as though he’s been underwater. he has to press his lips together so that he doesn’t smile when liam says, “morning,” right into his ear, sounding far too awake even as his voice comes out croaky and rough.

harry reaches a hand back to pat at the side of liam’s face, smacking with an open palm at his cheek a couple of times, sluggish and lazy, more like a pet than anything. he shuffles further into the sheets onto his naked stomach, rubbing his face into his pillow and tells the fabric, “g’morning,” closing his eyes again.

liam rolls with him until he’s sprawled across harry’s back, his chest warm and firm, his bare leg falling between harry’s open ones, the hand he’d curled around harry’s waist trapped beneath most of his body and the mattress but unable to keep quiet, liam’s fingers grazing up and down, twisting in circles around harry’s belly button, above the edge of his briefs. he laughs a little like he can’t help it, quiet and breathy, and his nose returns to the harry’s neck, sliding down the back of it, his closed mouth touching to the top of harry’s spine.

harry says, “s’ too early, i know it,” into the pillow but liam seems to hear him, humming, turning his face to lay sideways on harry’s shoulder.

harry hears him say, “it isn’t, though, not really.” he can nearly feel it, liam’s lips shaping the words, from the way that he’s slanted his mouth. harry makes an unconvinced sound back, shuffling in the sheets again. the ends of his dream are still just lifting, he can almost feel it playing out against his eyelids if he relaxes his breathing enough, but the bed shifts, the sheets rustling, and the warm, heavy weight of liam against his back disappears.

he moves his face to the side across the pillow to see liam’s bent forearm, his elbow, the lines of his feather tattoo against the white sheet. liam’s head ducks lower from above him until his mouth is sliding against harry’s cheek, saying, “haz, you’re gonna miss the whole day.”

harry feels his eyebrows come together in a furrow, half-frowning and tries to convince his body to turn over onto his back as he tells liam, “what’s there to miss, why’d you always want to get out of bed,” his voice feeling like it's raking, dipping down low under his vowels from disuse. 

when he makes it onto his back, he’s rewarded with liam’s face open and smiling, his front teeth biting into his bottom lip like he’s trying to contain it, his eyes hardly puffy at all, though he’s still got that soft, slightly swollen look as if he’s been up for a bit but not too long. he’s bracketed harry’s head with his forearms, his knees on either side of harry’s thighs. he hooks his feet around harry’s ankles once harry’s settled, and harry tries not to grin, but he feels his mouth curving into a smile anyway, difficult to talk around as he says, “not sure about your priorities, payne.”

liam raises an eyebrow at him, shifting to hold himself up on one arm. he touches his other hand to the top of harry’s forehead like he’s pushing his hair back. “oh?” he says, his fingers sliding through harry’s hair, tightening for a brief moment. “you sure about that?” he grins again after. 

harry brings his hands up touch liam’s bare chest, placing them flat until they’re spread all the way out against him. liam’s skin is warm, and harry can feel the slow thudding of his pulse, steady and consistent. he tells liam, “pretty sure, yeah,” and then slides his hands up to grip at liam’s shoulders quickly, surging up fast at the same time to flip them over.

liam resists for a moment, his face going slack with surprise, his eyes widening, fumbling the hand behind harry’s head that’d been in his hair before he laughs as he gives, falling over onto his side. his hands grab for harry’s waist, pulling him over and halfway on top of him as harry rolls with the momentum until they’re pressed together again.

harry acts like dead weight, laying flat where he’s half on liam, half on the bed, his head right by liam’s, so close that he can feel liam breathing in as much as he can hear it. he shifts his leg between liam’s until it’s totally against him, until liam has no choice but to let harry slide his big hand up liam’s thigh and hook his leg around his hip. “see,” harry says, blinking at liam and smiling enough to show his dimples. “isn’t this much better.”

“oh,” liam laughs, rolling his head in exaggeration like he’s rolling his eyes, “so much,” he says in a dry tone, but he moves his hand up and down harry’s back in a tickle with the tips of his fingers, his nails hinting, scratching a little.

harry gives him a smile, and then lets his hand slide all the way up liam’s thigh until he can smack his arse with his flat palm.

liam says, “hey,” like he’s offended, dragging the word out, so harry does it again, his smiling taking up so much of his mouth that all of his teeth are showing, and liam fakes a pout at him, his bottom lip jutting out, but it only lasts for a second before he laughs like he’s made a joke that’s too funny, and he jostles a little, pulling harry closer to him, his leg around harry’s hip tightening, dragging him in.

“that’s what you get,” harry says as liam throws him off balance, tugging him until he’s falling all the way on top of liam, his hand caught beneath liam’s warm lower back and the mattress, liam’s leg still tucked around him so that his ankle’s wrapped around the back of harry’s thigh. their chests are pressed all the way together, and harry pushes up to look down into liam’s face. he wets his mouth, says, “you’re the one who woke me.”

“mm, right,” liam says, nodding. his hand comes up stroke at the side of harry’s face, the backs of his knuckles running down his cheek. “don’t wake the sleeping bear and all that.”

harry scrunches his nose up and says, “grr,” imitating a growl.

liam laughs more loudly, openly, and his hand falls away from harry’s face to drop into the sheets behind his head. he looks delighted, and the noise of his laughter vibrates between them, into harry’s chest where he can feel it. there isn’t much sun coming in through the shades but the little that there is catches across liam’s curled fingertips, his hair rumpled and sticking up around his head, the top of his shoulder.

harry puts one of his hands over liam’s face, covering nearly all of it so that his nose and eyes and mouth, his eyebrows and the edges of his stubble around his chin are all invisible. “you’re supposed to be scared,” harry says. “that was scary, come on.” he feels liam laugh again from under his mouth, the graze of his teeth wet against his palm.

“is that what you were going for?” liam says. he cups his hand over harry’s and tugs it away gently, his mouth twisting like it’s trying not to smile too much. “because i have to tell you, that’s not what i got at all.”

harry hums and switches the loose hold liam has on his wrist so that he’s got liam’s hand held in his instead. he presses it back into the bed where it had been, above liam’s head, and he watches liam’s eyes tilt back to track the movement before returning to harry’s face as harry says, “guess i’ll just have to show you how scary i can be.” he leans in until his hair’s falling over his forehead and onto liam’s jaw, until his lips are right under liam’s ear and he can hear the inhale of liam’s breaths beginning to quicken, can feel his pulse tightening beneath his thumb against liam’s wrist. he says, “grr,” again into liam’s ear, growling so that it comes out slow and deep, dragging against the bottom of his register and reverberating in his chest.

liam only laughs, though it sounds more breathless, and his fingers flex in harry’s hand. “that the best you got?” liam asks, quiet and low.

harry hides his smile into liam’s shoulder and opens his mouth against his skin there when he says, “why, scared already?”

liam says, “shaking in my boots,” and the exhale of each word feels so close, like liam’s leaning in, leaning closer to say it as near to harry’s ear or neck or mouth as possible. before harry can reply though, liam’s hand breaks the easy hold harry had on him and shoves at his shoulder until harry’s rolling flat on his back. liam moves with him, propping himself up on an elbow, throwing one of his legs between harry’s, sliding his free hand up harry’s stomach to his chest, over his moth tattoo. “what a tough guy, huh,” he says, his smile returning.

harry grins up at him. “you have no idea,” he says, and reaches up to run his palm across the back of liam’s head against his hair, threading his fingers into it.

liam looks away for a moment, down at his hand splayed out in the center of harry’s chest, his fingers long and thin, biting his lip, the light settling against his cheekbones, his eyelashes sweeping and when he looks back, harry raises his eyebrows, gathering his elbow underneath his body to push himself up, and says, “well, at least give me a proper good morning, since you’ve got me up.”

liam meets him halfway and presses his mouth to harry’s in a kiss, though he’s laughing a little while he does and harry feels the flash of his teeth, the sting of his stubble. then liam angles his head, and his mouth feels warm and soft. the touch of his tongue is wet and slow, and harry opens easily, without thinking, a noise at the back of his throat building up, exhaling like a sigh.

liam’s hand comes up to cup the side of harry’s face, thumb stroking down the line of his jaw, up to brush against his cheek. harry opens his mouth up more until he can feel liam’s teeth with his tongue, feel his mouth opening in return, tightening his hand into a fist in liam’s hair.

liam makes a noise when harry drags his other hand up liam’s lower back and pulls at his waist in an attempt to lay them down again, pull liam closer so that he can feel the heat of his skin more clearly, more visibly, so that his thigh isn’t simply ghosting along the edges of harry’s briefs, and he follows harry’s guiding, pressing into his mouth even more, his breath sounding quicker, harsher, leaning down with harry until harry’s head is against the sheets and mattress, the pillow lost above them. when liam lowers his weight completely and his hips come into contact with the flare of harry’s thigh, his own thigh resting between harry’s legs, they both moan into each other.

liam’s hand slides up so that it’s in harry’s hair, cupping his jaw, tugging him nearer as if harry’s trying to move away, as if he isn’t doing the same.

harry rubs his hand across liam’s shoulder and down his back while they kiss, their breathing beginning to echo in the room. and after liam sucks on his tongue, harry rolls his hips up, helpless against liam’s leg, making a noise that liam swallows in another kiss. liam’s thigh is solid and firm, warm against where harry feels himself thickening quickly from half hard to fully. liam makes a noise against harry in return when he shifts his own leg, rolling his hips with more emphasis to feel liam’s cock press back against his thigh.

he pulls back to breathe and his lungs stutter, seizing in his chest like the sudden shock of air is too much. liam seems to be doing the same; his eyes have become dark, his mouth reddened and swollen, his hair more rumpled than before and harry takes another breath in at the sight. he can feel the sweat forming at base of liam’s neck, and he slides his hand down liam’s throat, scrapes his nails across liam’s collarbone briefly, bites his own lip. “god,” he says, his voice sounding rougher, lower than even sleep made it. “good morning.”

liam laughs, ducking his head and shaking it a little, glancing back up at harry before leaning in again, “right, yeah,” he says, and harry can feel the exact shape the words make against his mouth, “morning.” he kisses harry.

harry can’t stop the sounds he’s making from releasing into liam’s mouth, sharp inhales and exhales through his nose, one of his palms running up and down from liam’s shoulder blade to his arse, rubbing at his skin, his other hand around liam’s neck, his legs open so that liam’s settled completely between them, their hips pressed together so that each time harry shifts he can feel the bulge in liam’s briefs right up against his own. liam bites at his lower lip again, and harry leans away to breathe once more, his chest feeling like it’s expanding so quickly it’s as though he can’t contain it, liam’s chest just as heated and sweaty against him.

liam takes the opportunity to slide his mouth across harry’s cheek, puckering like he’s kissing, moving up to the top of harry’s jaw, and harry tilts his head into it, angling to give liam more access. liam hums against the skin between his ear and neck in thanks, rolling his hips so that they grind against each other, slow and sweet. harry moans, and when liam opens his mouth to bite at harry’s jaw, right next to his chin, he moans again, thrusting his hips up into liam’s, tightening his hand around liam’s neck, flexing at his hip.

liam clinches his teeth in another bite against harry’s jaw further back, closer to his ear, nosing along it like he’d been when harry first woke up, as if this has been his intention all along. harry tugs him up to kiss again, opening his mouth and bringing his leg up, bending at the knee, to wrap around the back of liam’s thigh, pulling him in closer, grinding his hips a little to hear the way it makes liam groan into his mouth, to feel the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheek. 

liam slides his hand up harry’s leg, squeezing at his thigh, gripping to pull him even closer, shifting his hips before flattening his fingers against harry’s thigh and letting them tuck up into the bottom of his briefs, sliding beneath the fabric, skimming at the skin there, reaching for the crease of harry’s hip.

harry drags his ankle up higher on liam’s back so that it’s resting above his arse, trying to open his legs up further for liam, unwilling to let go of his mouth, the hot slick slide of their tongues against one another. liam seems to take the hint and lets his fingers reach in until harry feels the tips of them, the graze of his nails trailing underneath his arse, almost touching the base of his cock. he can’t help the way he pushes his hips up into liam’s, or the way his mouth falls open wide with a moan.

it isn’t long before liam’s got a grip on his arse beneath his pants, his whole hand cupped around him, and they’re rolling their hips into one another constantly, moans muffled between their mouths, panting when they pull back enough to breathe, though it doesn’t last for long before they're reaching for another kiss, and another. liam’s whole chest and stomach are pressed so completely against his, harry thinks fleetingly that their skin’s going to stick together from sweat if they try to separate, but it only makes him thrust up against where liam’s hard in his briefs to feel him again, only makes him squeeze at liam’s arse where he’s got both of his hands underneath the fabric, holding liam against him for friction, his skin so warm.

harry doesn’t think he can stand it for much longer -- he’s spread his legs as wide as he can and though the rough slide of their pants is too dry, it’s insanely warm and hot, insanely good, too good for harry to think of anything except for thrusting up into it, able to feel the damp spot expanding at the front of liam’s briefs where he’s wet from precome. he groans into liam’s mouth, pulling back to suck at the top of liam’s neck. “you gonna come like this for me,” he says against the skin, clenching his teeth into a bite, grinding his hips up as liam presses down into him and moans, the sound loud, breathless.

he hears liam say, “harry," his voice breaking in the middle, low and already starting to rasp, "harry, fuck,” and then liam pulls back so that his weight’s resting on his hands, his chest separating from harry’s slowly with a slick noise though their stomachs and hips and legs are still tangled together. he ducks in to kiss harry’s mouth, open and messy, wet. “wanna taste you,” he says when he pulls away again.

harry groans and slides his hands up liam’s back from his arse, firm and unforgiving. “yeah, fuck, alright,” he says, leaning up to kiss liam again. liam kisses him again and again while he peels harry’s briefs down, harry’s hands unable to stop touching around his chest and shoulders, squeezing at the back of his neck. 

when liam’s slid harry’s briefs down his legs and tossed them away, his mouth flickering around a grin, he nudges harry further up on the bed and settles between his thighs, lying on his stomach. harry grins down at him, rearranging his hands against liam’s shoulders, smoothing his thumbs down the bone of his blades. 

liam takes his time kissing up harry’s knees, running the backs of his knuckles against the skin of his inner thighs, at his hip, tracing the tattoos there with his mouth. harry’s so hard his cock’s right up against his stomach, wet around the tip, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take the slow warm dragging of liam’s mouth against his skin, his hands digging into liam’s shoulders. 

but liam licks his palm and fists it around harry’s cock the next moment, and the sudden relief, the warm friction makes harry feel like his chest is coming apart already, thrusting up into liam’s hand, his breath caving in. he moans, his head falling back against the mattress. liam strokes him a few times, his mouth lingering below, dipping down to bite at his inner thigh.

harry props himself up on his elbows to watch, releasing liam’s shoulders when he feels liam’s wet bottom lip against his head of his cock, his hand fisted at the base. liam teases himself -- sliding harry across his mouth but not in, his eyelashes fluttering, his face flushing, his mouth falling open and slack with a moan at the sensation. he licks across the head, sliding the foreskin down with his fingers to touch harry’s slit with his tongue. harry bites his lip to cut off a groan that burrows in his chest and liam moans, licking his lips like he’s tasting, his mouth red. he looks up at harry before he takes him into his mouth, sucking. harry doesn’t bother to muffle himself then, though he does try to not thrust too deeply into liam as he sinks down. 

harry comes with his hands in liam’s hair, his cock down liam’s throat, his thigh open over liam’s shoulder while liam ruts against the mattress hard enough for it shake, moaning around harry in his mouth loud enough that harry feels it shock up his spine at the same time he shudders and stills, his hips held taut as they push further into liam’s mouth and liam swallows around him. 

when harry slides out of his mouth, his own throat feeling cracked open and dry, his hands stiff and numb, he pushes himself up to his elbows again to find liam’s arm flexing, his fist tight around his own cock inside his briefs. harry’s leg’s still over his shoulder, and liam’s eyes are shut, his eyebrows cinched together, his mouth open, red and wet like his chin. before harry can do more than say, “liam, li,” his voice rasped and stretched thin, liam’s groaning, his free hand clenching against harry’s thigh and he’s coming over his fingers, up against his stomach and chest. 

harry pulls him up by the back of his neck and his arm, curling his hand around his bicep. he kisses liam immediately, though liam does little more than pant into his mouth, moaning weakly. he offers harry another kiss and then lets his face fall away to tuck against harry’s neck, saying, “so good,” rubbing his forehead against harry’s skin like he can’t believe it. 

harry hums and reaches down to draw liam’s slack hand from his briefs where he’s left it, pulling it out carefully as liam relaxes his weight so that he’s resting all the way against harry between his legs. he brings liam’s hand to his lips and pushes his fingers into his mouth to slide his tongue between them, sucking, humming still in agreement. 

liam’s hand twitches in his grasp and harry feels him groan again against his throat. “christ,” liam says. “maybe you were right.”


End file.
